


Doubts & Fears

by cyberiandemons



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Ableism, Bullying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:53:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27465982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberiandemons/pseuds/cyberiandemons
Summary: Camilla Hect had trouble sitting still; she liked to rock back and forth, chew on soft things, tap her fingers together in specific patterns. She loved certain textures and could run her hands along them for several minutes at a time, but felt a nearly physical pain at having to touch others for even a second. Bright lights hurt her eyes. Heat made her feel like she was dying. Being in the noise of a crowd robbed her of her ability to speak and made her want to curl up in a ball and cry. She felt things very, very strongly, but her face and voice almost never matched that—more often than not, they were perfectly neutral no matter what she was feeling.Camilla Hect was autistic.Camilla Hect was autistic, and some people were very, very cruel about it.
Relationships: Camilla Hect & Palamedes Sextus
Comments: 7
Kudos: 31





	Doubts & Fears

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! So, I just wanna give some quick context for this fic: I'm autistic myself. This fic isn't "abled person writes a fic that uses ableism for cheap drama", this is "autistic person writes a wish fulfillment fic about a character they project on being comforted and protected after facing ableism". It's definitely a more personal piece than what I normally write!

Camilla Hect had trouble sitting still; she liked to rock back and forth, chew on soft things, tap her fingers together in specific patterns. She loved certain textures and could run her hands along them for several minutes at a time, but felt a nearly physical pain at having to touch others for even a second. Bright lights hurt her eyes. Heat made her feel like she was dying. Being in the noise of a crowd robbed her of her ability to speak and made her want to curl up in a ball and cry. She felt things very, very strongly, but her face and voice almost never matched that—more often than not, they were perfectly neutral no matter what she was feeling. 

Camilla Hect was autistic.

Camilla Hect was autistic, and some people were very, very cruel about it.

The thing was, though, that Palamedes Sextus was  _ also  _ autistic, and people weren’t mean to  _ him.  _ Camilla had thought of two possible explanations for this.

One: It was because Palamedes’ mother was somewhat important, and people didn’t want to piss her off, so they left Palamedes alone.

Two: It was because Palamedes was autistic in the way that people  _ liked _ , the way that people found  _ useful.  _ He was incredibly intelligent and he had all the right special interests and he was, in essence, a genius. Palamedes was autistic in the way that—at least in the eyes of other people—made him special. Camilla was autistic in the way that just made her weird.

Camilla and Palamedes had been joined at the hip since infancy. But they had to be apart sometimes, primarily because he didn’t take cavalier classes and she didn’t take necromantic ones. Those were the times when people would turn their cruelty towards her. 

When she was eleven, two of the boys in her sword fighting class had taken a special disliking towards her. The first day that she had realized they were taunting her, she had repeatedly said “Stop saying that” and “leave me alone” with a completely flat face and voice, which they decided meant they didn’t actually have to stop. She tried to contort her face in anger or discomfort or  _ something,  _ to fill her voice with emotion, but it just didn’t come naturally. It didn’t work.

It became a game, then, after that. Every day during breaktime, it was  _ how far can we push Camilla Hect before she starts expressing emotions the way that normal people do?  _ In their crueller moments, they told Camilla that they were doing her a favor—trying to force her to show emotions the way that  _ normal people  _ do. In her more vulnerable moments, she actually started to believe them.

What finally got her was, frustratingly, something that she knew logically couldn’t be true. Or… that she hoped couldn’t be true, anyway. But after two straight weeks of them telling her that Palamedes didn’t actually like her, it was starting to wear on her.

Camilla had started analyzing everything Palamedes did and said to her to try to tell if the boys were telling the truth. But Camilla had a horrible time reading other people—she had genuinely believed the terrible boys were trying to be friendly towards her for the first three weeks because every time she asked “Are you making fun of me?” they said “No, of course not!” and she believed them. Now, as she tried to read Palamedes, she found that she couldn’t. Or, rather, she was doubting her ability to.

She had always thought she could read Palamedes so well. But what if she couldn’t? What if that tone in his voice when he spoke about her was annoyance, not affection? What if he thought that her bugging him into eating and drinking and sleeping was frustrating? What if, when he spent hours and hours at a time reading his books instead of talking to her, it wasn’t that he was just hyperfocusing—what if he just had no desire to talk to her?

_ This is stupid,  _ she thought as she walked to class. Obviously Palamedes loved her. Or, at the very least, liked her. Or, at the  _ very  _ least, tolerated her presence. That had to count for something, right? Even if he obviously liked Dulcinea more—even if he liked someone he had never met more than he liked the person who had been at his side for  _ literally  _ his entire life—he still had to like her at least a little, right?

With these thoughts in her mind, she was in a horrible mood by the time she got to class. She could barely focus on anything they were learning, and right before break she made a stupid mistake and the teacher loudly scolded her for it in front of the entire class. By the time break rolled around, Camilla was genuinely considering feigning illness and leaving class early.

Before she had a chance, the horrible boys walked up to her. She glared at them. “Hey, Camilla,” Lucas said, barely hiding a snicker. She turned back to her sandwich, deciding not to grace either of them with a response.

“Hey, Camilla,” Elijah said, “Have you seen Sextus today, or is he avoiding you?”

Camilla froze. She was in the habit of waking up and going straight to Palamedes’ room to wake him so that they could eat breakfast together before they had to go to their separate classes. The past few days, though, there had just been a note:  _ Off early to study. See you tonight. — P.  _ She had sought him out at lunch, but had been unable to find him. When she finally saw him at night, he was exhausted from whatever he had been doing all day and barely spoke to her before going to bed.

Apparently seeing that he had struck a nerve, Elijah’s grin widened. “Oh, he  _ is  _ avoiding you, isn’t you?”

Lucas leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, I heard that the past few days, the necromancer class has been talking about cavaliers. The qualities that make a good cavalier, how to pick one. How you’re going to be stuck with them forever, so you have to make sure you pick a good one.”

Camilla pulled her legs up to her chest, buried her face in her knees, and covered her head with her arms. The boys both started laughing. “I bet that’s it!” Lucas said. “He’s realized he doesn’t want you as his cavalier, so he’s avoiding you because he doesn’t know how to tell you.” Camilla was shaking now. “And it’s because you’re  _ so weird.  _ Because you can’t handle being hot or loud noises or anything that normal people can handle. I bet he thinks you’re a freak. I bet he’s  _ sick  _ of you. I bet he’s—”

“ _ Shut up! _ ” Camilla screamed. The boys immediately fell silent. Camilla stood up and realized with a start that tears were streaming down her face. She stood there, openly sobbing for the first time in recent memory. The boys stared at her mutely for a moment before bursting into laughter. “I said shut  _ up! _ ” She darted forward. They were both bigger than her, but she was faster. She managed to punch both of them in the face before they had even realized what she was doing. 

The teacher started walking over. “ _ Camilla Hect! _ ” Great,  _ now  _ he was going to do something. Now that she finally fought back, he would actually get involved. She rounded on him, still sobbing, and screamed “I hate you!”. He froze, apparently shocked.

Camilla turned and bolted out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Her sobs echoed down the hallway as she ran. She wasn’t even sure where to  _ go.  _ Her tiny room in the youth dormitory was a glorified closet with a curtain for a door, so it wasn’t exactly the best place for private breakdowns. Her brain rapidly cycled through all of her and Palamedes’ favorite hiding spots in the Library before settling on the Pre-Resurrection Archives, fourth floor. Not even the Library had extensive documentation of the galaxy Pre-Resurrection, so those archives were rarely visited.

As she ran, several people tried to stop her and ask what was wrong. She ignored all of them. Finally, she reached the archives.

Camilla froze. Here was the downside to going to a spot frequented by only her and Palamedes:

Palamedes sat in the corner, surrounded by books and stacks of flimsy. He looked up as she entered. “Camilla?” He began to smile, then froze. Concern came over his face as he stood and walked towards her. Camilla turned and ran. “Wait!” Camilla began running down another stack in the archives, trying to lose him. “Cam, come back! Please?” She staggered to a stop. “Cam?”

Camilla collapsed to the ground. She moved to put her back to one of the shelves, then pulled her legs up to her chest, tucked her face into her knees, wrapped her arms around herself, and sobbed. Palamedes ran over and dropped to his knees next to her. “Cam, what’s wrong?”

Camilla sniffed, trying to control her sobs. She looked up at Palamedes and sobbed out, “Do you hate me?”

“What?” Palamedes leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her. She leaned against him and cried into his chest. “Cam, of  _ course  _ I don’t hate you. How could you think that?”

“I—” Camilla started speaking, then cut herself off. Hoping that he wouldn’t think she was ridiculous, she quietly said, “Lucas and Elijah said that you do.”

Palamedes’ brow furrowed. “What? Why would you believe them? They’re stupid.”

Camilla sniffed, wiping her face with her sleeve. “I didn’t  _ mean  _ to. It’s just—they’ve been saying it for weeks now.”

“Weeks?”

“And—and they’ve been making fun of me  _ all year _ , Palamedes—every single class, they make fun of me and insult me and call me names—”

“What? Cam, have you told your teacher?”

Camilla laughed. “He watches every day and doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t care. He only tried to intervene today when…” 

“When what?”

“When I punched them,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“When I punched them,” she said louder, in a rush. “Sorry.” 

Palamedes surprised her by laughing. “No, they deserved it.” He squeezed her tighter to his side. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Camilla was silent for a few moments. “Cam?”

“I was embarrassed,” she said quietly. “I—I suppose I was worried that if I told you what they say, then you’d—you’d agree with them.”

“Oh, Camilla.” Palamedes squeezed her tighter. “What do they say about you?”

“That I’m weird. That it’s weird that I can’t control my volume, and that my face and voice are so flat, and that I’m so sensitive to textures and temperatures, and that I’m just—that I’m not  _ normal. _ ”

“ _ Camilla _ .” Palamedes sounded absolutely heartbroken. Camilla hid her face in his shirt to avoid looking at him. “Cam, how could I ever think any of those things about you?”

“You don’t?” she asked, voice muffled by his shirt.

“Of course not. I love you, Cam. I could never think those things about you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Not in a hundred million years. You’re amazing.”

She sniffed, relaxing against him. “So… you haven’t been avoiding me the past few days?”

“Never. I’ve just been busy studying. I’m sorry, Cam.”

“It’s fine.” She took in a few deep breaths before sitting up and facing him. He leaned over and dried the rest of the tears off of her face with the end of his sleeve.

Palamedes looked at her with the most serious look she had ever seen him give. “Camilla. Who was it that you said has been harassing you?”

“Elijah and Lucas.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

Palamedes gave her a calm, reassuring smile. “I’m just going to have a talk with them.”

“Hm. Alright.”

The next day was, blissfully, the start of the weekend. Camilla wouldn’t have to deal with the horrible boys or her horrible teacher for at least two days. That morning, she was in her room with the curtain pulled shut when there was a gentle rap on the wall outside. She yawned, set her book down, and pulled the curtain open. “Hello—” she blinked, staring at the sight in front of her.

Palamedes stood before her with a bloody nose, a black eye, and a torn, bloody shirt. She immediately jumped into action, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the first aid kit in the corner. “Scholar! What did you do?”

He wiped blood from his face and grinned at her. “I had a talk with Elijah and Lucas. That’s all.”

Camilla rolled her eyes as she grabbed antiseptic and bandages from the first aid kit. “You’re ridiculous, Scholar. Sit down.” He did as she said. She sat in front of him, beginning to clean his wounds. “I can take care of myself, you know.” To anybody else, Camilla’s voice would have sounded completely flat. She knew that Palamedes could hear the affection in her voice.

Palamedes smiled again, softer this time. “I know. But you always take care of me, and I want to take care of you, too.”

“By getting yourself beat up?”

“Hey, they look worse!”

Camilla sighed, trying to hide her amusement. She never could hide from Palamedes, though. Still, she tried to sound as stern as she could as she said, “Archivist Zeta is going to kill you.”

“No, she won’t. That would be way too much paperwork.”

“Are there forms you have to fill out for murdering your own son?”

“This is the Sixth, so yes, probably.” Camilla let out a soft chuckle. They sat in silence for a minute or two as Camilla applied the last bandages. “Camilla,” he said suddenly—soft, yet serious.

Camilla quirked an eyebrow. “Yes?”

Palamedes leaned forward, taking her hands. “I’m going to be Master Warden in a few years. And when I am, nobody is ever going to make fun of you ever again. I won’t let them. I promise.”

Camilla smiled, just barely—which, for her, was quite a lot. “That sounds like a bit of an abuse of power. Saying that nobody can ever make fun of me.”

“I’m just saying—people won’t  _ do  _ that anymore. I’ll tell them not to, and they’ll have to listen.” 

Camilla wasn’t entirely sure she believed that would work. Still, she just smiled a little and squeezed his hands. “Okay. Thank you.”

Palamedes sighed and stood up. “Alright. Now, let’s go.” He started walking out of the dorms.

Camilla followed him, as she always did. “Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure. Which of our spots is least used at this time of day?”

Camilla began guiding them, glancing back at him as they went. “You’re hiding from Archivist Zeta, aren’t you?”

“Of course not.” A beat. “But we’re going somewhere where she won’t find us for at least a few hours, right?”

When Camilla laughed, it was a little too harsh, a little too loud. But Palamedes just smiled. And—even if Camilla’s face didn’t show it—as she led him down the halls, she was very, very happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, let me know in the comments.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at cyberian-demons and on Twitter at cyberian_demons.


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